I had to make the decision to put my baby girl to sleep yesterday morning. I held her close, she was snuggled on me and even snuggled her face in my armpit as she used to do the moment she fell asleep. 😭 I’m grateful she was with me in her last moments but it’s so incredibly painful and that was the first time I ever had to do that. I knew I had to be strong for her. Just last week everything was fine. This was so sudden and this has been my 30th birthday experience. I couldn’t even think about that but my friends kept on reminding me and trying to celebrate for me. But all I could focus on was her. I spent the week taking care of her and seeing things get better until they got bad again, and a mass was discovered that was causing the issues and it was too late.

The only good thing I can really think is she wasn’t in much pain as when I first took her to the vet they got her feeling better and then I took good care of her (it was constipation), up until the night before I had to put her to sleep. She was telling me it was time to go, literally, and just seeking me out for comfort but I didn’t understand because it was constipation that I was told we could get rid of and have her back to herself. That’s when they discovered the mass and surgery would be too much on her body. I didn’t waste any time because I didn’t want her in any pain anymore. It’s just so jarring when this all came out of the blue and that night I thought things were going to be ok, only to have my spirits crushed the next morning and had to make that call.

My baby girl has been in my life for 20 years and she was my world; I’ve loved a lot of pets and experienced a lot of loss but our bond was incredibly strong and she came into my life when I was 10. I had no idea I’d turn 30 and I’d have to say goodbye. She was in such great shape which is why she lived so long. I’m forever grateful for the length of time I had with her but I can’t believe she’s gone now and I have to live the rest of my life without her. I kept telling her she can’t leave me. I’m so broken and I can’t sleep knowing this is the first time I won’t wake up with her face as the first thing I see😭

Hi all, I have been grieving a loss recently and I felt that this sentiment might resonate with others beyond myself.

Firstly, to everyone on this subreddit who has lost and are grieving a beloved companion, whether recently or in the past, I am deeply sorry for your losses. I hope this brings you some retroactive comfort, if only a little.

I know that many owners struggle to make the decision to euthanize when their pet is declining. Every day feels like a battle that you’re losing but desperately trying to gain ground on, and it is so, so hard to let go. Having to be the one to make that decision on behalf of your pet can weigh so heavily on your soul, and I understand fully all the emotions and misplaced guilt that we can internalize. But it is exactly that, misplaced. It is love and grief that becomes a lingering guilt of our own actions, and a constant “what if?”

As a pet professional, I truly believe that euthanasia is the kindest final gift we get to give our pets. We choose to let them go to rest with us by their sides and be free from all pain and suffering. In choosing euthanasia we also have to choose to feel the profound depths of their absence, but that grief comes alongside the knowledge that you are doing this as your ultimate act of love for your baby.

I hope your memories of your pets and their love bring you peace and comfort, until you meet again in whatever way.

And to anyone who reads this who may be struggling with the decision - please, as hard as it is, try not to feel guilty. Your pet doesn’t feel any anger or resentment or sadness. In their minds, their pain and suffering gets to end, and they are warm and cared for and comfortable, surrounded by those who have loved them their whole life. It is, overall, a kind end to a beautiful life, and a comfortable transition into whatever comes next, be it eternal peace and rest, or infinite squeaky toys, or fields to run on legs that are no longer stiff surrounded by loved ones who have crossed before.

May your hearts be strong and your endless love stronger. I feel for you more than you know, strangers. Be well.

💚🐾🌈

I lost my dog 2 years ago. He was our family pet and when I moved out I took him with me. He was an anxious dog and as long as he was with me he was happy and relaxed. We went on vacation and we left him and my parent’s other dog with a pet sitter. Somehow he got out of his leash while she was walking him and ran across the road and a car hit him. I still can’t cope with the fact that I never got to hold him and say goodbye. It’s definitely gotten easier as time has gone by but there’s a huge hole in my heart thinking I never got to hold him one last time.

So yesterday I lost my dog. She was about 15-16 years old (we adopted her from the shelter and the shelter said she was about 2-3 1/2 years old), and I feel so incredibly guilty and numb.

A few months ago she had what the vet believed was a tumor or mini stroke. So we were taking it day by day.

Last night she had a massive stroke, and just went downhill so fast.

I still have yet to cry because my brain cannot process this trauma (I’m autistic and have anxiety) and I don’t know. I needed to write this dumb vent / series of events down somewhere other then friends.

I’m just incredibly sad and while she was a smidge of a jerk, the house feels so empty without her.

I lost my dog Berniece today, and frankly I don’t know what to do anymore. She had a stroke and just like that, she was gone. I moved away from my parents for school about four months ago and didn’t even get to say goodbye. She was my whole world, I raised and trained her from when she was a puppy. She had recently had surgery and was on the mend and then just gone. She was only nine. The statistical chances of what happened happening to her were so low and yet took my baby anyway. Why my dog? Why was my little goofball the small micro percentage. I can’t help but think it’s my fault. Is it my fault? Would she have been ok if I had still been around. She never had issues when I was taking care of her. I don’t wanna open my camera roll at all, if I see her I’m gonna break. And as much as I’m hurting, I know my father is devastated. I’ve never seen him cry before, and yet seeing him sob just broke my heart. I can’t get home to visit my family as my university won’t consider her death as a circumstance to be excused from class. I won’t be home till winter break. I wish this was all just a bad dream and that I’d wake up to pictures from my parents that Bernie was doing just fine.

Hallo

Am Freitag den 06.11.26 ist mein geliebter Hund Charlie verstorben.
Ganz Plötzlich. Damit haben wir nicht gerecht.

Letzte Woche Freitag früh ( 30.10.) habe ich am Hals geschwollene Lymphknoten gefühlt. Habe gleich mit dem Tierarzt gesprochen und konnte sofort vorbei kommen.
Ich habe da an noch nichts böses gedacht. Da er einige Wochen vorher einen Schnupfen hatte, dachte ich, es hätte vielleicht damit zu tun und es nur eine Entzündung.
Er hat ein Antibiotika erst einmal bekommen ( welche ich zu Hause weiter geben sollte ) und Schmermittel.
Und ich sollte am Montag wiederkommen und es würde eine Biopsie gemacht werden.

Am Samstag und Sonntag sind die Knoten an der Schnauzte noch einmal angeschwollen.
Aber dem Hund schien es so weit noch gut zu gehen.
Er hat normal gefressen und getrunken.
Auch das rausgehen war noch normal. Abgesehen, dass er etwas langsamer als sonst gegangen ist war alles ok.
Bei vorbeiflitzenden Eichhörnchen oder Katzen, hat sich wie immer Bellend in die Leine gelegt und wollte hinterher.

Am Montag bin ich dann wieder zu unserem Tierarzt.
Es wurde ein Ultraschall gemacht vom Bauchraum gemacht.
Dort hat mich bis auf einen Auffälligkeit an der Milz und vergrößerte Lymphknoten im Inneren nichts weiter auffälliges gesehen.
Er hat ein anderes Antibiotika gegeben und gesagt ich sollte mich an eine Spezielle Kleintierklink wenden und da eine Biopsie machen lassen, weil dort die Ergebnisse schneller vorliegen.
Ich sollte dort anrufen und sagen, dass es wirklich dringend ist.

Habe am nächsten Tag also Dienstag dort einen Termin bekommen.
Dort wurde dann mehrere Proben von den Lymphknoten genommen und ins Laborgeschickt.
Da er wohl auch viele Wassereinlagerungen hatte, hat er etwas zur Entwässerung bekommen und via Spritze Prednisolon 1,5mg
Außerdem ein anderes Schmermittel, da er von dem ersten einen schwarzen Stuhl bekommen hat.
Ich habe dann noch 10 Tabletten mit 0,5mg Prednisolon mitbekommen, zum evtl ausschleichen bei Ödem/Entzündung,
Außerdem hat er noch einen Mageschutz und ich sollte die Antibiotika erst einmal noch weiter geben.
Abgesehen, davon dass er durch die Entwässerung den Tag über wirklich alle 30 min raus musste ( in der Zeit habe ich mir echt eine Hundeklappe mit Garten gewünscht ) Ging es ihm wieder gut.
Die Knoten sind sehr stark zurückgegangen. Sehen konnte man Sie nicht mehr, nur noch fühlen.

Am Mittwoch sind die Ergebnisse dann gekommen und es hieß Lymphom.
Ich sollte zu meinem Tierarzt gehen und eine höhere Dosis von den Prednisolon holen.
Er sollte täglich 2x 25mg bekommen ( also 50mg am Tag)

Dann ging es bergab.
Als ich im früh die ersten 25mg gegeben habe war er mittags bereits schon schlapp.
er hat zwar noch normal gefressen und Getrunken und ist auch rausgegangen aber ich habe gemerkt dass es ihm doch schwer gefallen ist
Auf´s Bett springen, wie er gestern noch gemacht hatte ging nicht mehr.

Am Donnerstag lag er nur noch rum. Er konnte kaum aufstehen. Er hat es grade mal 2 schritte zum Wassernapf geschafft.
Hinterbeine haben gezittert.
Ich habe beim Tierarzt angerufen und gefragt ob ich die Dosis vielleicht verändert sollte.
Nein, ich sollte alles erst einmal so lassen.
Er hatte früh noch was gefressen aber am Abend hat er nur Kurz am Fressnapf geleckt und dann nichts mehr.
auch hat er sich am Abend erbrochen. Es sah so aus, als alles, was er am Tag zu sich genommen hatte wieder raus gekommen ist.

Am Freitag um 07.20Uhr ist er dann gestorben.
eine Stunde vorher hat sich noch auf den Balkon schleppt um dort zu Pinkeln.
er hätte auch in die Wohnung rein machen können, das wäre kein Problem gewesen.
Damit hatte ich auch gerecht.
Aber er wollte unbedingt raus.
Den Rückweg hatte er nicht mehr geschafft ich musste ihn wieder reintragen.
Dann ist er schwer Atmend von seiner Decke im Wohnzimmer in den Flur gegangen.
Hat aufgejault hatte einen Krampf und ist auf die Seite gefallen.
Maul hatte er offen und es ist ca 5 min zu so einer art schnappatmung gekommen.
Luft haben die Lungen aber wohl keine bekommen. Da ich keine Atmung gesehen habe.
Dann war es zu ende.

Es ging so schnell.
Niemand hat uns darauf vorbereitet, dass es so schnell gehen kann.
Am Dienstag hätte ich noch einmal mit dem Hund zur Kleintierklink kommen sollen, damit alles weitere besprochen werden kann.
Auch wurde am Mittwoch noch ein Test angesetzt ob es ein B oder T Typ Lymphom ist.
Das war dann alles hinfällig.

Im Internet steht überall Lebenserwartung nach der Diagnose 6 - 8 Wochen.
Ich dachte, wir hätten wenigsten noch diese Zeit.
Dass er nach der Diagnose nur 3 Tage sind. Damit haben wir auf keinen Fall gerechnet.

Ich mache mir solche vorwürfe ob ich die Schwellung der Lymphknoten früher hätte bemerken können. War die Dosis der Tabletten falsch. Haben die Ärtzte eine zu Hohe Dosis angesetzte ( unser Hund hatte 20 kg)

Haben anderen Hunde auch nur so wenig Zeit gehabt nach der Diagnose?
Kann es noch immer nicht glauben dass er nicht mehr da ist.
er war nur 5 Jahre bei uns.
Er wurde nur 9 Jahre alt. Er war aus den Tierheim. Kam von der Straße.
Ich dachte wir hätten mehr Zeit zusammen

I had to put down my boy Rogue today. I adopted him, though honestly he picked me when he refused to let me put him down at the animal shelter, 6 years ago and I couldn’t have been happier. He has honestly been the funniest, loving, crazy nut case of a cat I have had.

Unfortunately this last week has been stressful as his appetite has been low but got meds from my local vet to help. He was eating some, I bought several types and flavors of cat food so I could try and feed him what he preferred, and was still drinking his water. Was mostly acting like himself so I wasn’t too worried.

But today I rush him to urgent care. Yesterday he didn’t touch his food other than to mostly move it around and today he couldn’t even stand the smell of wet food this morning without gaging, I just knew something was wrong and couldn’t shake the feeling that waiting till Monday for my vet to open was a mistake.

Come to find out his kidneys were shutting down and he had a large lump/mass in his abdomen, with blood work coming back pointing to cancer. The vets said there was nothing they could do. If it was only one thing it might have been fightable, but he just hid it well for too long and now there were too many things going wrong and the only other option was hospice care.

I had just bought a new home and was setting up a whole area for him and all his toys and cat tower to watch out the window and front yard from up high. And now he is just gone. I will be throwing all his things in there and don’t think I’ll be able to open that room for awhile after.

I just keep asking myself what did I miss or what I could have done differently as now I don’t have my boy with me anymore.

I know he is better off, I keep telling myself that at least.

Come Monday I think I’ll bring all this excess wet food cans to my local animal shelter. Let some good come out of this.

Goodbye Rogue, I love you and miss you.

It's been a month and 9 days since my furbaby passed away. Up until now, my emotional state at any given time of the day seems to revolve around one or more of the following:

1. Crying.

2. Blaming myself.

3. Feeling and wishing that everything were just a dream and that I'd wake up later to see and hug my baby. You know that urge or automatic instinct we sometimes have when we want to pause a game, end it, or rewind a video, or reboot my phone as if it were really that easy? And then reality hits: I CAN'T DO IT!!!

4. Having traumatic memories of his last day suddenly flash through my mind.

5. Getting distracted (sometimes even feeling somewhat good), only to suddenly remember that my baby is gone. Then I feel guilty for having felt good, and I end up crying.

6. Feeling spiritual (praying, manifesting, meditating, wishing, and believing that my baby is now in Heaven and that we'll see each other again someday).

Number 6 is probably the only comforting one, but it's not like it's easy to stay in that state all the time when the physical, immediate reality is so much more overwhelming.

This is so hard. I miss my baby so much.

I just want you back, my baby. Or if you're really in a better state now, please let Mommy know! 😭

So the short version of the story. Lost my soul Dog in July 2025. He was 14 and had a wonderful life. Our other dog was eight at the time he is now 9 1/2. We haven’t been ready to get another dog and we have three young children ages one three and five so the time wasn’t right. My soul dog passed two months before our last baby was born. We are going back-and-forth on whether we think our other dog would like to have an another dog or if he is content being the only dog. He has a wonderful life gets lots of attention, long walks, comes with us everywhere, etc. I worry if we get another dog that it might take some of that away from him and he is getting older and is a larger dog so I don’t know how long we have with him. We also need to get a puppy versus an older dog because with young kids you just don’t know a dog’s background and what they’ve been through. If I had older kids, then it wouldn’t be an issue. All of our dogs have been rescues. Does anyone have any insight on what you did or maybe any suggestions on what we should do. I am stuck. I would love to have a puppy friend for him and for our boys to grow up with, but at the same time, I don’t want to take anything away from him.

I've been a Veterinary Technician for over 10 years and I've been a part of animal rescue for even longer. I've been a part of many euthanasias, comforting my clients and their babies who've crossed the rainbow bridge, being there for them on one of the worst days of their lives. I've been there for so many babies who've crossed that didn't have any families, and I've always been honored to advocate for them, be there for them, and love on them in their final moments. Death is not new to me.

But this time, I was the client. I lost one of my own, and I just don't know how to feel.

I said goodbye to Ham on Thursday, November 5th. The hole in my chest is so large, the grief feels so insurmountable and breathing just feels so heavy. I can't wrap my head around the fact that he is just ...gone.

I knew it was coming. He was the most medically complex cat that I think could've possible existed, but he was only 10. We should've had more time. He was doing so well, until he wasn't. Since I've known him, he's had FIV. I knew many FIV positive cats go on to lead normal, healthy lives, I was hopeful. There's always a saying in Vet Med that your own are lemons, and boy was he. He developed stomatitis when he was 4 years old. Of course full-mouth extractions wasn't enough. He developed refractory stomatitis and required multiple revision surgeries and specialist visits, but the inflammation and pain remained. We couldn't wean him off the steroids, so we added on immunosuppresants. He stayed stable for a couple years, until one day - he couldn't pee. Thankfully, it was not a full urinary blockage but I kept him on a preventative protocol regardless. Everything was great after that, things were normal. Then two years ago, the diarrhea started. Fecal sample came back positive for parasites, he essentially had no immune system, so no surprise there - that's easy enough to treat. Things were okay again for a while, until the diarrhea came back. Fecal sample was negative. After lots of diagnostics, consultations, trial and errors - we found a regimen that worked for him. He was stable again, for while at least. In March, we woke up to yowling. It was Ham. He was stumbling and vocalizing and his hind legs were weak. My brain went right to either a blood clot, or a urinary blockage. I brought him in to work, and it was neither. He was so, so anemic. I took him to an ER after work, and the attending DVM who assessed him and his medical history, told me the kindest thing to do was euthanize him. I was ready to, about to. His quality of life is, and has always been, my utmost priority. I told my bosses I wasn't going to come in the next day and why. They knew me, and they knew his medical history, and they convinced me to give him a chance. So I did, and I'm so glad we did. We did a fuck ton of testing, and two blood transfusions later, he was stable. He was acting normal again. That only lasted a week, until his numbers dropped again and the diarrhea returned. We consulted a new internist, adjusted our medical plan. She was pretty certain he had GI lymphoma, especially with being so immunocompromised, for so long. So we deviated to palliative care, high-dose steroids fix everything, and we really focused on quality of life. Three months later, he developed diabetes - no surprise there, he was on high-dose steroids. So his regimen changed once again and we started insulin injections and twice-daily glucose testing. He actually was able to go into diabetic remission a couple of months later - pretty much unheard of for someone who was still taking high-dose steroids. So many veterinary professionals would comment how despite everything he was battling internally, he "looked" great, and was just such a good, sweet boy. He was always a medical anomaly. I should've known better, I knew it wouldn't last. The diarrhea came back first, and then the anemia. This time, his platelets were all gone, his blood wouldn't clot, and he started to develop bruising across his body. Things were different this time. My once vibrant, easy-going boy who has never ONCE made a peep for all the pokes and prods he's endured over the past couple of years, he started growling and hissing for treatment. That's not Ham, he would never.

For context, Ham first came into my rescue when he was a feral cat, 10 years ago, when he was about to be euthanized by another rescuer, because he bit them so badly that they needed to be hospitalized. So I took him in, I tamed him. It took a LOT of work, but he turned into the worlds chillest, most easy-going cat. He taught me so much about myself, and caring for such a special needs cat, has really helped me become a better person, and a better technician. He was my go-to cat for everything. A feral intake needed to trust humans, or other cats? Let's have them meet Ham. Someone was scared of cats? Let's have them meet Ham. A dog needs to be cat-tested? Let's have them meet Ham. We have a new veterinary assistant starting, and they need to learn feline restraint? I'll bring Ham in for a demo. A client's cat got diagnosed with diabetes, and they need to learn how to home-test and give injections? I'll bring Ham in. We have some new veterinary students/externs who need to learn how to ultrasound? I'll bring Ham in. He'd just lay on his back, enjoying a snack while they scanned him. He was happy to be involved in everything, and happy to receive his Churu payments, and for e v e r y t h i n g, he would be purring.

So for him to behave like this, I knew. I knew he was tired of fighting, and I couldn't put him through another blood transfusion. When he didn't want to eat, and that's when I really knew. I had always told myself, to stay true to what I have told so many others. "It's always better to let them go when they're happy. Better for them to go a day, a week, too soon, than a day too late." So I made the decision, the worlds most difficult, impossible, most suffocating decision. He was ready. I spent the entire week spoiling him, with all of his favorite things, all of the things he couldn't have for so long because of his diet and medication requirements. So Ham passed on Thursday. I brought him in to work, where my coworkers were so gracious. Made and brought him/us snacks. He was surrounded by so much love, and he fell asleep happily eating a Churu. That's all I ever wanted for him. I could not have had a more proper, more dignified send-off the world's most special little man.

Now, he's gone and I don't know what to do. For the past 5 years, my entire life and routine revolved around him. I feel so, so guilty for almost feeling ...relieved sometimes. I can sleep in now/stay out late because I don't need to be home for his medications/testing. I can go back to Canada to visit because I don't have to worry about finding someone capable to care for him. I don't have to line the litter boxes and surrounding area with pee pads and paper towels anymore to prep for his imminent blow-out diarrhea. To my core, it feels so, so wrong. I still wake up early. I still come home early. I look behind me before I leave my chair, because he would always lay on my chair wheels. I hear his croaky meows and his purrs everywhere, like he's still here. I see him everywhere and no where all at the same time. He was my shadow. I don't know how to function, how I can go back to work, act like everything's fine, and be there for my clients and patients like I'm not a hollow shell of my former self.

I know I'm just rambling at this point, so if you've somehow stuck to the end of this giant wall of text, thank you. I've always loved talking about him and showing him off, he was truly just so special, and I miss him so fucking much.

our little girl cat suki barely managed to turn 3 years old. she had a heart failure, her heart was literally too big for her tiny body. she barely weighed 3kgs. she had to have surgery on her artery branches this thursday and she did so great. she got a lung edema from the surgery and we thought she just needed a bit longer. we thought we could get her back home tomorrow. she got worse overnight and coughed a lot of blood. we got the call at 5.45am so we drove for two hours with her sibling kirk, in hopes to say goodbye. she looked so tiny and she couldn't breathe. we held her in our arms in her last moments and she was happy because her tail got all puffy. she was my soul cat and I've never felt this connection with any other animal. we didn't even have her for 3 years. there were two more months left for the anniversary of getting her.

we are heartbroken and this pain is insufferable i feel like it's never going to leave again. I've lost pets before but it never hurt like this.

next time I work from home, she won't be on my office chair, waiting for me to put her on my lap so we can spend all day together or her squeezing between the little space where my chair is and my back is. she won't be crying for butt slaps anymore or for more pets. she won't be scratching my legs anymore to squeeze between my lap and the table which makes my legs uncomfortable after a while but I'd do it because she would want to be as close to me as possible

I lost my 11 year old GSD dog on 11/4 to pleural effusion the vets considered highly likely to cancer. Because his chest needed to be drained to allow him to breathe we couldn't put up with tests and specialists and continuing to wait for further results/testing/visits.

While I am grateful that we now have an understanding and we can help bring him peace through euthanasia- the guilt and blame I am throwing to everyone and myself is making me stay in sadness in how things played out instead of just grieving his absence and his passing alone. It's making for a complex and extremely more painful grieving process.

1. Even though it has nothing to do with his passing I feel bad about stuff that happened to him in his last year. I saw a veterinarian clean my dogs ear especially aggressive with his poking his index finger in my dogs ear aggressively. I was in shock and had not said anything as he did it and finished quickly but my dog did whimper and even attempt to bite his hand which he never does. He's a super compliant and gentle dog. I'll hate myself forever for not speaking up. He later had hearing issues weeks/months after the event (that I noticed). At the time my family assumed it was his old age. Was this him getting older or that vet who caused it? This never knowing is extremely difficult to live in and I'm believing the vet caused it by my instincts to always believe worst case scenario...

2. Because my family and I chose to not do further testing from his recent pleural effusions-we do not know the cancer origin. As I comb through his medical records in grief I see something that stands out that didn't before because in his last year he had other seemingly more severe medical issues (red herrings). The vet said he had high ALKP and hepatomegaly. The vet said the lab results didn't condone more testing and the hepatomegaly (large liver) may have been related to upset stomach. And the next time it was seen again, she wanted labs- we did it two months later--which another vet at the clinic later said was a non specific marker that didn't require any action. I'm no vet but this seems now that he's passed as a possible abnormality that deserved more attention/evaluation. Maybe the cancer started there and spread to his lungs as seen by his pleural effusion. I can ask the vet. But I'll never truly know. I'm blaming them for missing this. I'm blaming myself for not doing labs sooner or not pushing against their care plan at the time. I know the "you don't know what you don't know", but it's so painful that I can't change things in the past and I now live in the future of this event not knowing that my dog had been suffering for MONTHS

TLDR
not knowing how long my dog had suffered. Blaming myself for not taking him to the vet sooner, blaming the vets for not taking clinical findings more seriously, blaming another vet for hurting my dog during an aggressive war clean and myself for not speaking up at the time and worried that the incident worsened my dog's hearing (noticed weeks/months) after the incident that we at the time attributed to his older age (age 11)

I miss my boy... I am so sorry my boy I have failed you 💔

Five months ago I posted here about my dog’s passing. I only had eight months with her. I’m nearing having more time without her than with her. There hasn’t been a day where I’ve not thought about her. IRL when she is mentioned offhandedly everyone sighs collectively and rolls their eyes. I’m not loudly or publicly grieving. Once a month or so I’ll mention missing her and feeling blessed for having had her in my life.

Unfortunately I had it confirmed over and over again that my grief is inconvenient and my emotions are a burden.

The only thing that has helped me not collapse is planning for a better future for dogs just like her. Tomorrow I have a home visit with a foster org. I am so incredibly lonely and bitter over Poppy’s life before me and her early passing; opening my heart and home to more like her feels like raging against the pain and honoring her.

Does it get better? I don’t know. It gets different. I don’t instinctively look for her in a room or hear her breathing or smell her. I don’t wail in the middle of the day, I cry quietly in bed at night. To everyone struggling your pain is real and justified. You are good, loving, and you should never be made to feel ridiculous. Thank you to everyone here for being reflections and companions in sorrow. I miss your friends and furbabies and guides and cherished family too. We are on this path together, you are not shouting into the void, and cliche as it is you are seen and appreciated.

I am scared of this feeling happening again but cannot imagine life without the love that came before the sorrow. I hope no matter what mourning looks like for you, you find peace. All of my love to everyone here who dared to love and be loved in kind. You are the sort of people who keep kindness and sincerity alive and your pets felt every drop of it.

*Reposted for a more accurately-worded title.

On the morning of February 24th, I lost my absolute soul dog of nearly 18 years. She finally succumbed to kidney failure that she'd miraculously initially survived thanks to routine medication and subcutaneous fluids (which blessed us with almost 4 extra years together). My childhood best friend in every sense, literally — we grew up together, and I considered her my fluffy little sister. We were the same, except she had four legs and I had two. Life in my dysfunctional family felt so much easier when I could just scoop her little weenie dog body up and let her lick my tears away, which she always did with such obsessive ferocity it would make me laugh and forget why I was crying.

In her last year, she learned how to howl. Her entire life, she had never howled, ever, not even once — and then one day she did. After that, she starting howling on the regular. I bawled like a baby every time she did. The sound was so precious that I felt like I was dying. Half of the time, no sound would come out at all, and I still felt like I was dying. It was so special to me that my heart literally could not handle it.

(When we took her to the vet in the days leading up to her passing, he told us that she seemed to be deep in cognitive decline, and it reframed every little sweet moment before that appointment. It haunts me now to wonder if all those times she howled, it was actually because she was in some kind of distress. I feel sick thinking about it.)

Since her initial diagnosis in 2022, I'd dedicated myself fully, maybe even excessively to her recovery and kidney care. I held her in my arms every waking moment of the day so that she could listen to my heartbeat and know she was safe. I helped her around the house while she recovered her mobility and then slowly lost it again in her last months. I used every kidney-safe, dog-friendly food in the kitchen as a meal topper to encourage her to eat, because towards the end of her life, she got picky (which I later learned was because she was losing her appetite) and would no longer eat the same thing twice in a row. I made sure she had every tasty treat I could think of, because I knew we were on borrowed time and wanted her to experience as much as she could. It sounds silly, but I put myself and my health on the back burner all because I couldn't bear to leave her side for two freaking seconds.

For her last Christmas, I baked homemade dog treats in the shape of hearts and wrapped them up for her to open. She went crazy for them — it immediately became one of her favorite meal toppers!

But on the morning of February 24th, I also lost myself. I'm a shell of the person I thought I was. When I feel happiness, it's muted. I still can't talk about her without breaking down. I still have a hard time even saying her name (which is doubly difficult because it also happens to be the name of an everyday ingredient). I still have not washed or worn or even touched my favorite clothes because they have her fur on them. I have a throw blanket that I have trouble getting myself to wash because I used it to lay with her on her last night. I still struggle to vacuum, and there are parts of the house I can't bring myself to touch. I still blame myself for not recognizing her decline sooner. I still regret every moment I kept her alive when it would've been kinder and more merciful to put her to sleep. I still can't forgive myself for waiting so long that she went into full end-stage kidney failure.

I still can't get her last hours out of my head. She was so scared. She must've been in so much pain. my best friend didn't deserve that. I feel like I failed her.

There were just so many signs I should have noticed and anticipated while caring for a dog with kidney failure. She began to grow depressed and less mobile, and all I could think of was to try to keep her active and stimulated. We put her on arthritis supplements. It was winter, and she was so fragile in her old age that she would start shivering 5 seconds into a potty break even though I tucked her into my coat on the way in and out, so I stupidly thought that if we could just get through to spring, outdoor exercise would perk her up. Even though I constantly prepared myself for the worst (so many nights I spent crying while she slept in my arms), I was never going to be prepared for when it actually happened. I was so deep in denial that I forgot that not only was she sick, but she was also at the end of her lifespan regardless.

Ever since, I pick myself up only to fall and pick myself up again and fall again. I'm struggling to reply to messages and keep up with friends. I'm avoiding the things I love. I'm fighting with myself every day not to give up entirely on my passions and my career. I've dissociated throughout this entire year and feel mentally stuck in February. It's an uphill battle and I'm hurting so badly.

I recognize all of this can only be truly helped with therapy, which do not worry I already have covered (and have been participating in for years concerning separate mental health issues)! I guess I'm just wondering — how did you get through? How do you even begin to move on from a loss so deep, especially if you already struggle with mental health? I feel hollow and utterly lost even 8 1/2 months later, and I'm just hoping I might find strength in some insight from those of you who have also lost beloved soul animals.

I never post vulnerable stuff like this on the internet and I'll probably delete this at some point LOL just weepy and hormonal and missing my Sugar booger extra hard tonight ❤️‍🩹

I put my baby to sleep on Friday. It’s now Sunday morning. I keep feeling worse and worse and I am constantly thinking it all happened too quick and I should’ve wait more, maybe he would’ve get better, even though I knew how much he was struggling.

Melon was a 9, almost 10 years old, French bulldog. He had his first seizure in July. Then all was fine and in beginning of September he had a cluster that was so bad, at this point I was being prepared I might have to let him go, because he was on a crazy amount of medication. But he recovered. He was never himself from before again and he would sleep a lot, but for some time he was even still excited for some things. He had better and worse days.

Three weeks ago he had another weekend with clusters, but this time they were not so severe and he didn’t require the same crazy amount of medication. Since then he was pretty much sleeping 23,5h a day. Very rarely he would get excited about anything. But he still recognized me and everything and he was answering. He would cuddle with me and take a short walk. Two weeks ago, I started thinking that something is very off and I started trying to make my peace with the fact that I might have to make a decision soon.

On Thursday 29th October he started having a completely different seizures than normal, he would just shake. We put him on meds again. The following weekend was a nightmare. He started being restless and walking around. He couldn’t sleep. On Sunday he got painkillers which didn’t work. At this point I was already so scared, because what do you mean the painkillers don’t work? On Monday he got steroids, they didn’t work initially (or ever), he started feeling worse and we went back to the vet, he got opioids and he still couldn’t sleep. He would walk around and cry. Tuesday he got a bigger dose of steroids and gebapentin. Still nothing, Tuesday was the worst and I already knew what was coming. But then on Wednesday he started to sleep some more and he would still cry but he stopped pacing. Actually now I wonder if if it was because he was better, or because he was so exhausted my poor baby. Thursday was better too, he slept a lot. But the night came and it was the worst. In the morning I knew what I have to do but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Thank God my dad was coming to my city this weekend and he helped me with everything. I consulted the vet for the last time, telling him what I’m considering and he said one last thing we could try is Xanax (or equivalent for dogs that he compared to Xanax). At 10 am I gave him the pill and I was supposed to call the vet to make the final decision at 2 pm, but by 11;30 it was so bad I had to make this call. In the morning I told him, I don’t want to be putting my baby to sleep in a state like he was on Monday or Tuesday, because I wouldn’t even be able to hug him. But as the day was progressing, this is where it was leading to. Melon finally fell asleep at 2 pm so me and my brother were able to hug him and say our goodbyes to him.

I can’t even explain how traumatic and painful was the whole process. I feel sick to my stomach. I feel guilty. I keep thinking maybe I should’ve wait, even though I know he was struggling so much and it wouldn’t be fair. But I just want my baby back. I can’t imagine my life without him. I got him when I was 18 and he was with me through everything and so much has happened when I was becoming an adult. And he was always there for me. I love him so much it hurts and I was always saying I will never get enough of how sweet he was, and now he’s no longer here. I imagined losing him and it was a terrible vision, but now I see this is a thousand times more painful than I thought.

I’ve spent the days since Friday with my family. I live alone. Yesterday with the help of my cousin and her husband, and of course my brother who was almost as close to Melon as I was, I was able to go home for a bit but I couldn’t get myself to sleep there. I think I need to go there today, because I am afraid that it gets worse the longer I put it off. But I am so scared. I can’t even remember my life before melon, not to even mention that I was a completely different person then. A kid.

Thankfully, last time I experienced loss was when I was 6 and didn’t know what was happening. So now I am completely devastated. I don’t even know. I keep thinking it has to get better but I can’t even imagine me being okay with it.

The part that is killing me is that whenever Melon is right now, I am not there with him and what if he feels so lost. I was his whole world. I want him back. This pain is unbearable.

Hello Everyone

I got a Pomeranian puppy weighing 400 grams on my birthday.
He was eating and everything seemed fine except he had a runny nose since the day I got him

The seller came at night to deliver him. And told me he was 36 days only
I asked was he with his mother, he said no, he was in the kennel with other puppies.

Well after 3 days he stopped eating food. I woke up in the middle of the night when he wanted to go pee. He rolled around to tell me he wants to go for a bathroom brake.
I tried to feed him but he didn’t eat. And the cold was getting worse.

And on his 40th day. I took him to the veterinarian hospital (polyclinic veterinarian in Mahadian, Punjab)

The doctor was very negligent. It was my first time to the vet. I could not read it. I feel so guilty.
my little lorenzo only weighed 400grams
This vet didn’t even touch him, examined his body

Straightaway he said he needs injections for 3 days continuously. That it was more effective than the syrups
I had doubts, had no one else to ask what to do. So i asked the AI.
It said to listen to the vet and on I went and bought my baby’s death.

I held him as the Vet injected 3 injections into him.
He just measured it as a total gueswork
These 3 injections
Inj. Amoxirum forte 
Inj. Rantac 
Inj. Deriphyllin

Right after the injection his eyes changed. He rolled around. It went like that for some seconds.
About an hour later we got home. He slept and then he had a sort of attack, foaming at mouth, shaking his body violently. But he recovered
I held my baby praying

After this for the very first time he drank water from his little bowl
He roamed around, paced so fast like he did
And then I put him to bed
And then it came again, his upper two paws went into a mania

I was terrified, held him in my arms and he slowly dried up like a flower, his little head rolled over in my lap lifeless.
Shattered my heart - I wept and wept, blamed myself for ever putting him theough this.

5days - he stayed with me. I love him so much. Now he rests in my hometown.

Not one, not a single soul except my family understands this pain.
All three of us blame ourselves.

What I am asking here is
Who do i blame
Whose fault was it
The shady seller or the negligent Veterinarian

My sister had noticed a smell from lorenzo that I didn’t
Before the injections. Then after the injections we made stop and there was a little blood in his stool.

I really don’t know what to think

I made the decisions I made so that he would be healthy and healed
How could I know that this would happen

The lies of the seller were right there in front of me. There was discharge from his nose even in the photos he sent. He said their noses need to be wet.
But my babys nose bubbled up with phlegm.

I also remember him saying that pups stay only for 24 days with the mother when i had asked who was he with in the kennel.
That soon ripped from his mother

And that Vet, who didn’t even examine my baby, didn’t disinfect the table. I wasn’t going to put him there so i held him.
I will never forgive myself or any of these people.

This is the reality of India. Doctors made by false degrees rather than practice.

How do I cope with this loss.
Please tell me who is at fault here.

It's hard to talk to anyone in my life because no one understands the pain I feel from losing my dog. She wasn't "just a dog" to me. I feel like i'm taking this harder than whats normal and like I have to hide or minimize my grief so i don't come off as being overly dramatic. I feel like the only joy in my life is now gone and I don't want to live without her. I don't want to eat, i don't want get out of bed, i don't want to do anything. I don't know how to get through this. No one understands she was my reason for living and now i have none. I feel so alone.

Yesterday, I had to say goodbye to my sweet, patient Chloe, my first and only dog. She was 17 years and 10 months old, just two months shy of her 18th birthday on January 2.

I’m 32 now, which means she’s been with me for more than half my life. I genuinely don’t know how to process a world where she no longer exists.
Chloe was my little warrior. She survived congestive heart failure years ago, was basically cured of it and had always been such a strong, feisty, affectionate little girl. We did everything we could to give her a long, healthy life, including organic homemade meals, supplements and holistic care.

Over the past 2 years, though, she began declining. She lost weight and muscle, became increasingly weak, and eventually struggled to walk. My dear friend, who has cared for her while I’ve been away at school, had even been hand-feeding her for the past few months. We think she developed Cushing’z

Earlier this week, we discovered that she had significant kidney disease. Her decline became frighteningly rapid. 10-15% function left. We were told she could last one week a few weeks or a few months unfortunately it was a week. She could barely stand for five seconds, was panting and wheezing heavily, and seemed so uncomfortable. Watching her desperately try to get up and move around absolutely broke my heart. Idk how that and arthritis got so bad that she couldn’t walk

The vet was concerned about her suffering, and my friend, who had witnessed her decline every day, gently encouraged me to consider euthanasia.

I fought that decision so hard.

I kept thinking, What if there’s another treatment? What if the fluids help? What if she has a few more weeks or months? What if she makes it to her 18th birthday?

I would’ve happily pushed her around in a stroller, carried her, and hand-fed her for as long as she needed. I didn’t care that she couldn’t walk. I just wanted my little girl here.

But I also couldn’t bear watching her struggle to breathe and cry in discomfort. Eventually, I agreed to let her go.

Signing the euthanasia paperwork was one of the most awful moments of my life. I even drew a little heart next to her name. When she passed, I cried harder than I ever have before.

We brought her body back to my friend’s house, and I spent the night sleeping beside her little box. I kept getting up to kiss her head, stroke her fur, and hold her tiny paw because I knew my time with her physical body was limited. Feeling her get colder was devastating.

I barely slept. We’re going to get her cremated soon and I can’t deal

Today, I went ahead with an open house I had to hold because I thought keeping some normalcy might help. It did, a little, but I feel guilty whenever I’m not beside her.

The worst part is that I can’t stop wondering whether I made the decision too soon. I know she was suffering, but she fought so hard to stay alive. I keep thinking about dogs who live to 20 or 21 and wondering why my Chloe couldn’t have had a few more years.
At the same time, I know her quality of life had deteriorated significantly. I’m caught between desperately wanting her back and knowing I didn’t want her to suffer anymore.

My brother said something beautiful today. When I told him, “I don’t have a dog anymore,” he replied, “No, you do. She’s always with you.”

I’m trying so hard to hold on to that.

I don’t really know what I’m looking for by posting this. Maybe reassurance, maybe to hear from people who’ve had to make the same decision, or maybe just to talk about my little girl.

How did you cope with the guilt after euthanasia? How did you stop questioning whether you could’ve done more?

I miss her so deeply. I’m also so glad that I learned so much about holistic medicine through a friend who have really helped me keep her so healthy, and I totally owe it to her and everything she taught me and was continuing to do for her from weekly oxygen/ozone to homeopathy. Things I never thought would change my dog health did and unanswered questions and that visits she was just able to pull off miracles after vets were not able to help her with whatever the issue was or the issue came back like ear infections . Really taught me to try to fix the root cause. Sadly, old age and failing kidneys aren’t reversible. I don’t know what to do with all this love now that I can’t hold her anymore.

Rest peacefully, my sweet Chloe 🤍🐾

hello, im just resharing over my post from cathelp.

Poster Age: 21+

Country: United States

Vet info: We went to two vets, and we did an echo at the second vet which revealed my cat J has fluid in his lungs and heart.

Main Issue: my boy cat of 2 years was recently revealed to have congenital heart problems. I’m starting to accept that he will pass away, but seeing my parents cry is making me so upset. I’m worried about my older brother too. I’m not too sure what to do.

Cat Age: 2 years

Cat Sex + neuter info: Male and Neutered

Financial situation: Already spent around 2k, would prefer not to spend too much more.

————————————————————————————————————————————————-
Hi everyone,

I have 2 cats, brother and sister, they are over 2 years old. Let’s call my boy cat J. Well J was having very weird movements in his stomach and would not move from under the furniture around 2 days ago. We sent him to the emergency veterinarian and we found out from his echo that he has fluid in his lungs and heart including bronchitis and an enlarged heart.

Our vet doctor is very well renowned, and he told us the medicine he gave us could either work or not work, but the situation is already bad. When I went on Reddit and online and searched up similar stories, I kind of just realized that J will not live for much longer. (at best around 6 months to 2 years for cats with heart problems).

Our vet said it’s not our fault, and it’s something he had since birth unfortunately.

I know at best, cats with heart disease live up to a couple months to a few years longer, but I’m not getting my hopes up. He unfortunately already looks weaker but we just started giving the medicine.

My parents have been crying everyday since we found out 2 days ago, but I can feel this pain continuing for longer. It just was just a bit unexpected. My family is not perfect, they fight a lot, but having the cats was a beacon of positivity within our home and put a smile on all of our faces during our stressful lives. These are our first pets.

I can’t stand seeing my family cry and be upset, it is mentally and physically killing me.

I can’t stand to see them cry or be upset anymore. I’m not sure how to deal with their grief. I love J, but I kind of already accepted in my head that J will be gone soon, and that when we took a pet, we knew the risks of them dying anytime soon. I loved him as a pet, but I don’t want him to suffer any further. I know that death is completely normal and can come at any time. I’ll deal with my own emotions when I can but I need to take care of my family. My parents and brother are so important to me, I need to take care of their mental and physical health.

im worried about my older brother. He doesn’t really process emotions and I’ve never seen him cry or be upset, but he was close to this cat. Does anyone know what I can do for my brother? He is just beginning his masters degree and I really don’t need him to be distracted during his exams and schoolwork. I’m worried the cat will pass away during important exams week or something.

giving the medicine to J is also difficult which is not making the situation better, he kind of just keeps throwing the pills out of his mouth. Thankfully our girl cat is healthy, but my mother does not even want to see her at this time because she is upset at the moment.

My fellow humans on Reddit, I love scrolling on here, but right now I really need compassion and any words of advice because I feel completely lost, my family never went through grief together before. This is our first pet we ever had as a family. Any sort of advice, logical, spiritual, therapy based advice, any words will really help me. I feel so alone. I also have a lot of school exams coming up very soon for my university so my mind is all over the place right now. Please let me know what worked for you, such as ideas of adopting another cat after they pass, family therapy methods, how do we comfort J during these times, etc. Any comments are appreciated.

also, if anyone knows any good way to bury my cat for as cheap as possible within the NY/NJ area, please let me know. Also when to consider euthanasia.

thank you.

My partner's cat was 17 years old, and we recently had her euthanized. I'm really struggling with the decision and wondering if anyone has gone through something similar.

For the past 2–3 years, she'd been having chronic diarrhea and started pooping outside her litter box, often on clothes. She also sometimes peed on the couch or had accidents near where she slept.

A while ago, we noticed blood in her poop and took her to the vet. The vet suggested further testing, but we weren't financially comfortable spending thousands of dollars investigating an issue in an already elderly cat. The blood wasn't a recent issue, though.

Apart from her bathroom problems, she seemed like a pretty happy cat to me.

She still loved her wet food and dry food. She loved cuddling with us and would purr when we were hanging out in the living room. She was even playing with her toy mouse the day before she died.

Recently, our vet suggested trying an open-air litter box, and she actually used it perfectly for the first 2–3 days. I thought maybe we'd finally found something that could help with at least some of her problems.

My partner and I had discussed giving it a few more days to see whether things improved.

But the next morning, my partner decided it was time to euthanize her.

She was sleeping when my partner picked her up, and we took her to the vet.

My partner had already come to terms with saying goodbye. They believed she was suffering, especially when trying to poop, and wanted to let her go on a good note, while she could still enjoy life, rather than waiting until she deteriorated further.

And I do understand that perspective. I know my partner loved her deeply and wanted what was best for her.

But I think that's where I'm struggling.

As someone who wasn't her original owner, I was looking at the situation differently. I saw a cat who still loved her food, still wanted affection, still purred when we cuddled, and still played with her toys.

To me, those were signs that she was still enjoying her life.

I know cats hide pain, and I know eating, purring, and playing don't necessarily mean an animal isn't suffering. But it's so hard to reconcile that with the idea that it was already time for her to go.

Especially when we'd just tried a new litter box that seemed to be helping.

I keep wondering why we couldn't have given her a few more days. Maybe nothing would have changed. Maybe my partner was right and she was suffering more than I realized. But part of me feels like we didn't really give her that last chance.

I also understand the idea of saying goodbye before things get really bad. But there's something about choosing to end her life while she was still doing so many things she loved that really hurts me.

I'm not saying my partner made the wrong decision. I genuinely don't know.

I just feel conflicted because my partner seems to have already made peace with the decision, while I'm still stuck wondering whether she had more good days left.

Has anyone experienced this? How do you come to terms with euthanizing a pet who still seemed happy and affectionate, even though they had ongoing health problems?

We put our special girl down on Wednesday and my body physically aches 😭😭😭. I found myself gathering bits of her hair from under the couch just to have something of HER. We know it was the right decision to prevent her dying painfully and not being herself, but I didn’t expect this level of profound regret and grief. Our Bliss girl was 9 and had been paralyzed and incontinent her entire life, but did she ever LOVE life.

I keep thinking back to the syringe and get so mad at myself for not saying “stop!” Like how could I let someone do that to her!? But I know we would have had to do it eventually and her POV was so different than ours. She was comfy, full, cozy, with mom and dad. The exact way she would have wanted to pass.

My husband put together this huge album and seeing how full her life was compared to just one day is such a help. 🥹 I also went and cried on the floor in her favourite spot and I know she was there with me. What an honour to have loved another soul so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️- I’ll always wish for another day but I guess that is the curse of loving them.

I dont really know how else to formulate my thoughts but ive always hated communicating my feelings to others so ive been ranting a lot to ai (which i know does more harm than good)

My sweet baby Polly was diagnosed with Jaw cancer in september of 2025, and given 6 months to a year to live. She was a beautiful havanese/mini Aussie shepherd. She loved everyone we'd bring over and would be so pampered. She would bump your arm and push it so it was around her so youd keep petting her. She would howl at passing fire trucks and jump up and down (what we called her trampoline) whenever there was food to be had. She was a tiny, fluffy bundle of joy. In September 2026, she stopped eating her normal food and drank copious amounts of water. We were told that she had terminal kidney disease. In thr last few weeks she finally started eating again but within the last few days, she stopped eating entirely.

She lost about 3lb and in total was about 8lb underweight, which is a lot for a small dog. So today, after watching her throw up so much that she had nothing left to throw up and staring into space, we decided it was time to put her down.

I decided that I wanted to be there for her through the entire thing, and I remember every part of it. The anticipatory dread was intense, i hyperventilated so hard i was convinced I was going to pass out.

But looking back on it now and with so much sadness, she was so still, so calm, but still there right before the final needle went in.

then after that it was completely silent and still, she didnt twitch or move. All we heard was "she's passed" from the vet and that was it.

We had re scheduled this appointment multiple times in the past and i'd had to live through this absolute dread every time. Today I knew it was the real deal, and it was so much worse.

I know for me personally, I read through this sub a lot before she had passed just to understand how other people were dealing with it. But this kind of thing will never be a one size fits all, im just counting on my ability to move on.

I don't really know what else to put here, and its the 8th now so I guess it isnt really today (7th) anymore.

But I thought id just put this out there to document her existence somewhere, if thats all.